The Wedding Night Affair--An Historical Mystery by L.C. Sharp (books to read as a couple TXT) 📕

“And the settlement?”

“You cannot expect what he was offering earlier in the season.”

Juliana could not countenance this scheme. “I won’t do it. I won’t marry him.”

“You have little choice, my dear,” her father said smoothly.

His dear? How dare her father call her that?

Lord Mandrell’s wrinkled face and scrawny figure swam before her eyes. But that wasn’t the worst thing about him. She had seen men of seventy who were much more robust than he was. “He’s diseased.”

Her mother waved the rumor away with her fan. “He assures us he is not. That he is cured.”

Juliana doubted that. What parent would even consider him as a prospective husband? “You have a doctor’s assurance?”

“Not necessary.”

That was how much her parents cared. To see her wed to an old, pox-ridden man just so they could have their precious heir. “You know nobody else will have him?”

“You can hardly expect to have the pick of the cream of society after what you’ve done.”

Nothing. She’d done nothing. She’d been done to, and now they wanted to do it again.

Juliana scrubbed at her cheeks, drying the tears that had fallen, despite her best efforts. She would not give in. “But if I refuse to marry him, what then?”

“There is no question of that,” her mother said. “Lord Mandrell is providing the cleric and the witnesses. They will all swear on the Bible that you responded as you should and entered into the marriage wholeheartedly. And I have a reasonable simulacrum of your hand. I can sign the book on your behalf.”

“Anyone would think you wanted to retain the name you have made notorious,” her father continued while Juliana boggled at their audacity. “If you appear in court with another name, that will distance you. We will do everything we can to ensure you are not charged with anything serious.”

But Ash was doing his best to discover the true murderer. Her parents had no faith in him, no faith in anything but their continued line. Why should Juliana not speak her mind? God knew she’d held her tongue long enough.

And they were her captive audience. They would do as they threatened, she knew that. And probably have her restrained after she had done her duty. If they would do this heinous thing, then they would think nothing of locking her up when she’d proved her usefulness by providing the longed-for heir.

“You have never been parents to me, not true parents,” she said. “Neither of you has ever shown me love. If it was not for the servants who looked after me, I wouldn’t have known what affection and care was like at all.” Her father opened his mouth, but she plowed on. “After this, after today, I want nothing more to do with you. I can’t stop you arranging to have the title bestowed on any boy child of mine, but I won’t let you near him. You won’t treat him as you did me. Never. I trusted you when I married Godfrey. You knew what he was like, didn’t you?” She wiped her tears away as they fell, ignoring them.

Their faces were pictures of horror. Cracks appeared in the paint around her mother’s mouth as her jaw dropped. But Juliana wouldn’t let her speak.

“He beat me. He cut off my clothes and he rutted inside me. He took me against the bed, in the bed, made me do things I don’t have words for. He twisted my nipples as if he would pull them clean off and when I screamed and begged him to stop, he laughed. He took me over and over, until my body could take no more, then he did it again. Do you know what you did? What you forced me to undergo?”

While her mother screamed at her to stop, and her father lunged for her, Juliana remained passive. She’d had her say. She would continue to protest, even if they killed her. She would not go to the altar willingly, wouldn’t allow the old ram anywhere near her.

The earl grabbed her forearms, and pushed her back against her seat, fury mottling his cheeks and deepening the folds of his face. His wig tilted askew, the first time Juliana had ever seen him in this state.

“Leave her be,” her mother said wearily. “She’s not worth it. We’ll be rid of her soon enough.”

Her father slammed back into his seat.

She had to get out of this. She must. Running away at the next inn wouldn’t help. They were not near any place that could help her. No stagecoaches went this way. No other coach had passed them for the last mile, and now the road was narrowing farther.

So running wasn’t something that would work. What else? A helpful servant? No. Her parents would have stocked this manor house with their people. This had been carefully arranged so she had no escape. It was nothing short of abduction.

Dropping her father’s handkerchief, Juliana groped in her pocket for her own. She wanted nothing of his. He made her skin crawl.

Her fingers came into contact with warm metal. Ash’s signet ring.

Inspiration came to her in a blinding flash. She had one way out. Just one.

She drew her hand out of her pocket. It now had Ash’s signet ring adorning the third finger. “I came with you today to spare Ash the scandal you threatened, and to tell you the truth. But if you drag him back, then you drag me, too.”

She let her words sink in before continuing. “I cannot marry Lord Mandrell,” she said, “for the simple reason that I am married already to Sir Edmund Ashendon.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

An hour, he spent in his study, staring at the wall of books. An hour, and still he had no answer. Eventually, his sister came to see him. She marched up and down wearing out the rug. She spun to face him.

“Why did you let her go?” Amelia demanded. “How could you?”

She faced